Intentions
by trufflemores
Summary: Minor hurt/comfort. In which Kurt has a broken wrist and Blaine has a doting boyfriend complex, and compromise is the solution. Fluff. Klaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

Blaine couldn't and wouldn't stop hovering and it was slowly driving Kurt out of his mind.

Kurt had always been slightly more prone to injuries, and so a handful of bruises and a broken wrist as a result of a careless taxi driver was no cause for alarm on his part. It was a nuisance, but nothing that he couldn't handle; he'd already put on the finishing touches for most of the outfits that he'd been working on, and Blaine's iPad functioned as a relatively speedy alternative to Kurt's laptop for answering work-related emails. Content to keep up his same brisk pace as always with his internship at Vogue, classes at NYADA, and night shifts at the Diner, Kurt continued to maintain a rigorous schedule – much to Blaine's chagrin.

Sitting with the iPad balanced against his knees and an old rerun of _Say Yes to the Dress _on TV, Kurt watched Blaine surreptitiously as he ambled helplessly around the apartment. First he put away the boots that Kurt had left deliberately misplaced by the door. Then he neatened the pile of papers he'd left on the kitchen table, fiddled anxiously with the medicine cabinet handle as though he wanted to bring Kurt _something _to make the cast go away, and asked him (for the third time in twenty minutes) if he wanted a coffee.

He'd been nothing but considerate, turning down the sheets and collecting laundry and even stocking up on all of the groceries that Kurt had written down in a moment's reprieve. At first, it had been comforting to have Blaine close and at hand if he needed something, but after six days of the same pampering, Kurt was feeling a little smothered.

He wasn't used to having a fiancé on-hand twenty-four seven to cater to his every need. Growing up, he'd adjusted to taking care of himself, not because his dad was cruel or unkind but because necessity demanded it. There simply wasn't enough space in his dad's work schedule to accommodate sickness and other health-related lapses. He needed to be at the shop, doing his job, and Kurt had learned to feign normalcy to keep the guilt in his dad's eyes at bay whenever his dad had to leave him alone. Already accustomed to largely managing his own affairs, Kurt had adjusted to the new routine, even if it was hard at times and he longed for company during the worst of it.

Reversing his role now – so pampered by another person that he needn't even wash his own laundry if he so desired – was jarring. Kurt was glad that Blaine hadn't openly protested his decision to continue working, but Blaine's presence at home was near constant, effectively erasing any idle alone time that Kurt used to have. He didn't go out with friends or make other social plans; he came home and lingered, uncertain, in the shadows until at last Kurt was ready for bed and he could crawl in beside him, tucking himself protectively around Kurt like a second blanket.

It was sweet and Kurt knew that it came from a place of caring, but he also knew that tiptoeing around each other was what led to hurt feelings and arguments in the end, and so he decided to put it at a rest as he set the iPad down. "Blaine?" he called.

He'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed that Blaine had disappeared into the bathroom, a sharp yelp accompanying hurried footsteps as Blaine reappeared, pressing a towel to his half-shaven cheek and asking, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, sweetie," Kurt sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the couch and standing, already reaching for Blaine's face. "That looks painful." He'd dressed down to his evening wear – another night in, it seemed.

With the tips of his ears bright red, Blaine pressed the towel against the corner of his jaw and shrugged, saying, "It's fine. Did something happen?"

"No, but that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," Kurt said, adopting his most light and optimistic tone as he sat back on the couch, folding his legs underneath himself. "I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time around the loft."

Dabbing at his face, Blaine allowed with a slightly scrunched brow, "I have."

"And it's – very sweet," Kurt hastened to assure, patting the space in front of himself invitingly, "but also – unnecessary?" At Blaine's sudden stillness, he added, "I love you, but I also need space sometimes, too." Waving his good hand slightly, he reached out to tangle their fingers, tugging Blaine onto the couch beside him. "I appreciate what you're doing, but I'm not made of glass, honey."

"No, no, I know," Blaine said, dropping the towel – thankfully, the bleeding had stopped, leaving only a scratch in its place – and squeezing Kurt's hand tightly. "I do. I just –" Letting out a gusty sigh, he reached up to rub his hair with his free hand. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not kicking you out," Kurt added, rubbing his thumb over Blaine's knuckles. "I just need you to know that I _can _do some things. Okay?"

Nodding in acquiesce, Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand again and waited a long moment before asking, "So, does this mean I should get rid of the cheesecake that I got you or – "

"You bought me cheesecake?"

"Mmmhm."

Leaning forward to kiss him once, unable to help himself, Kurt said, "You're the best. Even though I am supposed to be discouraging you from spoiling me."

"It could be an exception?"

As far as Kurt was concerned, accepting cheesecake was the best answer to any argument, regardless of how intense or subdued it was.

Blaine's hovering came from a place of caring, and as long as they continued to keep each other in check, then Kurt knew that they would make it through fine.


End file.
